More Than Nothing
by K32
Summary: Crawford thinks about his life. He comes to a dismal conclusion, but someone helps him find a different one...[Angsty with some stupidity!]


More Than Nothing - Weiss Kreuz Fanfic  
  
  
It's depressing here. The walls are blank, it helps me concentrate, but on what? I have no work to do, no sechdule to keep...I suposse I'm board. There has to be something I should be doing. Who knows how many precious seconds of life I've wasted already? I should be making use of the ones in front of me by doing something productive. Should, yes, but I don't think I'm going to.   
  
I feel trapped in this office. I'm not one for being clastraphobic, I can't afford to have a weakness like that in my job, and yet...*sigh*  
  
Hn, I wonder if this is how Farfarello feels when he's locked up in his cell. Does he feel the emptiness I'm feeling, or the dimness of the world despite the sun shining and the white walls? The undescribible feeling deep inside that threatens to bring me to tears? Do any of them feel the sadness I do? Can they possibly?!  
  
I have to get out of here. If I don't, I'll drive myself insane.  
I must be in a daze, I don't even realize that I've already been walking toward the front door. Just a few more steps and I'll reach freedom. Why am I hoping that the world outside will be any different then it already is in here? I know it won't be. But I'm leaving anyway.  
  
"Hey! Crawford? Where are you going?"   
  
Nagi. I'm already halfway out the door, I can pretend that I didn't hear him. What difference will it make wether he gets an answer or not?  
  
"Out." I hear myself answering despite my thoughts.   
  
"At 5 am, Brad?"   
  
Hn, I woke up earlier then I thought. I didn't bother to look at any clocks before I shut myself into my office. I pause for a moment outside the door. Nagi does have a point, I supposse. Where am I going at 5:00 Tuesday morning? I have no idea, which is a very bad thing in my mind, and he doesn't need to know that.  
  
"Yes, Naoe, and only address me as Crawford!" Why did I say that so hatefully? It's reflexive. It was drilled into my head to never refer to anyone who held a higher status then you by their first names. The cycle is repeating by my enforcing my teammates to do the same.   
  
"Fine. Sorry, *Crawford*." So much animosity in Nagi's voice as he says that and slams the door in my face.   
  
"Cold hearted asshole!" I hear him carelessly mutter inside the house. Carelessly, because I know he is smart enough to realize that he could be in for a great punishment for saying that. I have every right to open that door, stomp over to him and shoot him for disrespecting me...but what's the use? Nagi would end up wounded, causing problems, and Schwarz would hate me more then they do already.  
  
As I walk aimlessly away from our residence I berate myself.   
'Such disobediance should not be tolerated! If they are insolent, they are of no use to you. You are just in terminating them. Replacements can always be found.'  
  
I suddenly stop in the middle of the sidewalk, clench my fist and punch myself in the face. Hard. A couple across the street is staring at me. Great. Happy now, Brad? You've made a scene. Great job. I storm away, trying not to think of the baffled glances that are being directed my way. At least I acomplished my goal. I'm no longer thinking about Esstet's methadology.   
  
I reach my hand up to my face. I can feel the already bruising flesh around my right eye. Great, a black eye. Schuldich will have an un-ending list of snide comments about it when I come home.   
  
Home...ha. That bulidning is no home to me. Home is where the heart is, or so the saying goes. So my home is no where, because I have no heart. Maybe I did someday, as a child, before I was corrupted.   
  
I only live in that building, with the rest of my team, almost like a family would. But the are no family to me. I think of them as such, but I know the feelings are in no way recipricated. I think of Schuldich and Farfarello as my twin brothers. I must be crazy for that but it's true. Schuldich is the smart-mouthed slut with the ability to turn others into lunitics; Farfarello IS a lunitic with a scarred-bodied that is unable to feel pain. Nagi is the cute little brother who can use his mind to do anything, even move objects.   
  
Where do I fit in? I don't. I like to imagine myself as being equal with them, a workaholic jerk of a brother who can see the future, but I know it's untrue. I'm not at the same level as them, I am below them, even with the title of leader among out group. They are all still people. Sure, bloodstained assassins but they are still human. I'm not. Compared to the them, I'm nothing. Nothing...  
  
Strike 2, Crawford, and so early in the day...I just said the 'magic pharse'. The one that always brings my mind back to the caustic memories of Esstet training. I sit down on the curb of the sidewalk, oblivious to the world around me as my own world of inner demons decends upon me...  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
"Well, well. *Bradley*...What are we going to do with you? You've been a bad boy, haven't you?"   
  
'Oh, stop taunting me, already!' I had thought angerly at him, knowing he couldn't hear me.  
  
Mr. Grayson was one of the many 'teachers' in the prison-like institution of Esstet who had taken a perverse joy in tormenting students who didn't behave properly.   
  
"All I was doing was reading my assignment for tomarrow!" I remember yelling back at him in the cell-like room that was the detention center. Temertious little bugger wasn't I?  
  
"All you were doing, huh?" I cringed at his laugh. I've seen alot of death since then, but that cruel and mocking chuckle still haunts my nightmares. He had been standing in front of me one moment, and the next he had his hands around my neck. I never did understand how he did it so quick.  
  
"ALL, Bradley?! You were told not to be awake at 9 pm, and you were! You disobeyed the rules! You must be punished! The rules dictate every aspect of your life. You can do nothing more then what they say!" Mr. Grayson loved yelling at me in particar it seemed. He released my throat and turned his back to me.  
  
"People have the free will to do what they want!" I had screamed at him in defiance. My voice had been scratchy, but it was still loud enough to echo against the walls.   
  
Grayson turned around then and looked at me maliciously. Now when he spoke it was in an almost hissing way.  
  
"Yes, Bradley...*People* have free will...But you are not a person. And you never will be again! You are OURS! You are only what we make you become! You are ours to be controlled, and you will be controlled until the day you die. Understand that?!"  
  
Mr. Grayson had gone on for hours until I had begun to doubt myself. Was I still a person? Did I still possess willpower? Was I just their automaton? I couldn't distinguish reality from what he told me. What he told me *became* reality...it still is...  
  
He had left me alone to think for a few minutes, to sit in the small room's only chair and mull over the brainwashing banter he had been telling me. Then he grabed me by the shoulders and hauled me up. I had stood still, wondering what he was doing. He had thrust his gun into one of my hands and grabed the other. It wasn't until we had been walking down a hallway for an unknown amount of time that he had finally spoken to me about where we were going.  
  
"Bradley, I want to see just how much you've taken to heart from what I've said. You have the potential to become a great leader for an Esstet team. Your psi ability is strong, and you're on your way to mastering it. All you need to learn now is how to do what what you're told. I think now will be a fine time for a little test on that, what do you say?" Mr. Grayson had looked at me expectantly, but I'd known better then to answer him. I nodded at him, keeping silent, and he stopped. Instead of giving me another 'talk' like I'd feared, he looked over the railing we were by.  
  
The facility had been shaped more or less like a square. Offices, classrooms, living quarters for the students, and other rooms made up the exterior with a massive courtyard in the center. It had been midday, when everyone should have been in clases, but some students were loitering around. The students added to the beauty of the garden-like courtyard had made the place seem almost happy. Mr. Grayson and I had spent a moment looking down from the second-story, apparently admiring the scenery.   
  
"See him?" Grayson pointed to boy who was with a group of friends. He looked to be around 16, two years older then I had been at the time. I nodded to Grayson and he smiled.  
  
"Kill him, now." The smile never left his face.  
  
"What?! Why?!" I'd asked in horror. Mr. Grayson had glared at me ominously. Now the smile was gone.  
  
"Why? Because I told you to! Now do it!" He snarled at me. I held up the gun in my hands, and took aim. It seemed the most absurd thing, to kill a man without him having done anything wrong! 'I won't do it!' I had told myself, 'I won't just kill him!'.   
  
But I did.  
  
He had fallen onto the girl sitting next to him, bleeding from the bullet hole in his head. She and everyone around her had screamed until Mr. Grayson whistled loudly. Everyone looked up at the railing, to me still pointing the gun downward. Grayson was smiling again.  
  
"Listen up everyone! You have all learned a valuable lesson today: Never let your gaurd down, or you will be killed as you have just seen! This boy next to me will become a great leader someday. You will address him only as Crawford, for he FAR outranks all of you! Someone clear that body away and..." He had continued on but I hadn't been listening. I just stood there, staring down at the friends of the person I had just killed. The look of disgusted terror on their faces was a look that I came to see very often over the course of my life...  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -   
  
That was the first man I'd ever killed. It wasn't in self-defense or something half-way honorable. It was to prove to Esstet that I was what they wanted me to be: Nothing. I ceased being human that day, I became a machine to be used for any purpose, devoid of life.  
  
I can feel the eyes of people on my back, I know the people walking down the streets are looking at the strange man sitting on the roadside. I must look awful to them with my purplish eye and the tears slowly dripping down my cheeks. Oh, perfect. I'm crying. I'm such a weakling. The weak have no place in the world, do they?  
  
I wipe my eyes and look at the concrete below my feet. Would anyone care if I wasn't here? Schuldich would probably throw a party over his happiness of my death, he hates me so much. Farfarello probably wouldn't care one way or the other. Nagi...he's too kindhearted even though he tries not to be. He would be sad for a while, maybe shed a few tears and then forget. Schwarz would be given a new leader, or a new precog at least. And life would go on.  
  
What do I have to life for? I can't think of much. What do I have to die for? A few things. If I was dead, I wouldn't feel the crushing guilt for killing people who never did anything wrong except end up on Esstet's hit list. I wouldn't feel trapped within this hell of an existance with no escape. I slowly reach out my hand to touch the gun that I always carry with me. It's a quiet little street, no one around now. If I kill myself now, I can be free...  
  
Who do I think I'm kidding? Myself? I will never be free from my own hell. Not even in death. There can never be any redemption for me. I won't acomplish what I want if I kill myself!  
  
At least it'll be a change of scenery.  
  
I pull out the gun and hold it up. It doesn't shine as it normaly does, to the constant facination of Farfarello. The sun is behind a cloud right now, how appropriate for the weapon to be as dim as the life it will be taking. I let my mind slowly fade out from thought as I bring my gunless hand up to take off my glasses. I welcome the blurring in my vision and try to force my mind to blur similarly. The barrel of the gun rests against my head now. The same side the brusie is on. Ha! That'll look hilarious when I'm dead; The blood will run down my face from the bullet wound and will cover the broken blood vessels underneath the skin. Symbolic, perhaps, of my pain inside that I mask with cold efficency? It doesn't matter, anyway.  
  
My finger is around the trigger. Shouldn't I be having my life flash before my eyes? All I see is nothing. Just like my life has been. So I guess all that stupid talk about the review of your life before death is true. I slowly start pulling the trigger. Why am I dragging this out? If I want my death to be slow, I should shoot myself elsewhere. But I want to die quick. So, why can't I just do it?   
  
Crawford, I order you to shoot yourself in the head. There, an order. I'm used to obeying orders. It doesn't matter that I'm the one who said it. I have to do what I'm told to do, because I'm nothing. I can do this now...  
  
"Stop!!"  
  
DANN IT! Just when I can finally do it, someone has to interupt! Now I either have to walk away and find some other place to put myself into a new world of misery, or I have to add one more death to my record. The voice sounded familiar. Maybe I should see who it is that I can hear running toward me. Now the footsteps have stopped right next to me. I guess I'll see who it is...  
  
"O-oracle?!"   
  
"Siberian?"   
  
My voice sounds so distant and sad. I think he's noticed it too, he seems to be frowning. Or maybe he's thinking of what to do with a suicidal rival assassin. He should kill me, it would be the smart thing for him to do. For both of us.  
  
"What are you doing?" He asks, apparently dumbfounded.  
  
"Guess." God! Even when I'm about to end my life I'm still sound like a heartless bastard! I have to be the same old Crawford though, right? I sigh, disgusted with myself and lay my head on my updrawn knees. I hear the gun dropping to the ground as I lower my hands against my side. I must look defeated, and I supposse that I am. The whole world has defeated me this time.   
  
A shadow falls over me, then it disappears. I look to my left, where the shadow originated from and see Siberian now sitting next to me. A safe distance away, so that I couldn't strangle him if I had the reason to, but still close enought to offer...comfort, maybe? God, I must be delusional now.  
  
"Here." He's holding up something, holding it out for me to take. My glasses. I accept them, and place them back in their coustamary place on my face. There, now I can see right again. Why is he wearing an apron? He looks like some house-maid. While I'm asking stupid questions, what is he doing sitting here with me?  
  
"Oracle, why the hell are you sitting out here? And why the hell aren't you trying to kill me?!"   
  
"I don't want to kill you...I want you to kill me."  
  
Yes, Crawford, take the simple way out. Try and go out heroicly with the enemy killing you. Che, I'm such an idiot. Idiots don't deserve to live, so am I right in asking the innocent assassin to do the honors? He appears to be thinking it over. A glimer of hope at last? Dare I be so stupid as to dream?  
  
"I - I can't. I can't kill you. Not like this! You won't fight me back, I'll just be slaughtering you! I - I won't do it..."  
  
"Why not? You've certainly murdered enough people in your life. Why am I anything more then another target for you?"   
  
"I don't know...I guess it's because I think that you guys are more like us then you want to admit. I don't think Schwarz is too different from Weiss."  
  
"Explain."   
  
"You can't order me around, you know. I think the only different things are that you guys have your powers and we don't. And that we have different orders that we have to take from different people. You 4 have to kill people, we have to kill people. I bet you guys try and live normally too, right?"  
  
I nod dumbly. It's odd not to be facing Siberian in battle and even stranger for him to be having a heart-to-heart conversation with me.  
  
"See? Not so different. Heh heh, this probably sounds stupid, but...Schwarz are the only people who I think are, you know, really worthy of fighting us. Other people just attack, but you guys actually have plans like we do. Ha, you're a real challenge."  
  
Geez, what a romantic this guy must be. He sounds so wistful, like he admires me and my teammates. We're his enemies...how dense can this guy be? Sigh. So I guess he isn't going to kill me.  
  
"Maybe that's why I can't kill you. Because I want see you die, yeah, but it has to be in a fight against us or you died for nothing."  
  
"So, you want to kill me, but only if I fight back?"  
  
"Yep!"  
  
"You are an idiot. It's a miracle you've surrvived being an assassin for as long as you have."  
  
He chuckles at me. Why? I don't know. Maybe he is mentally unstable...It is a possiblity. It's even more of a possibility that I am the one with the problems in the head. Isn't that what suicidal people all are? Maybe seeing the future as I can has ruined my mind from ever funcioning normally. I must be a liability to Schwarz as I am now...  
  
I watch non-attentivly as he picks up my gun. How dare he lay his hands on it...He's removing all the bullets. If he keeps those from me, he will regret it. I've spent a lot of money on my ammuniton and if he does any damage to my gun he will not live to see another minute. Hell, I should be dwelling on my problems not on non-existant ones involving my enemy.  
  
"Oracle, I may not be as smart as some people, but I really don't think I'm the idiot on this sidewalk."  
  
He sets my gun and my bullets on the ground behind us neatly. He is now staring at me, probably hoping I'll respond to his comment. Oh look at me I must be a fairy godmother, I'm granting wishes.  
  
"I am not an idiot, Siberian."   
  
"Then why did you let yourself get so wrapped up in pain that you were trying to kill yourself a few minutes ago?"  
  
Why did I let myself get like this? What should I have done differntly? Damn, I am sorely losing my wits if I said that second question aloud. Judging by his sad smile, I suposse I must have.   
  
"You have to stop being an assassin every minute you can. Why the hell do you think we work at a flower shop? To take our minds off what we do at night. We also do whatever we have to to keep us from getting too depressed that we can't come out of it. Like playing soccer with little kids, spending time with someone we care about, going out to clubs to get drunk or just playing on a computer. Simple everyday things like that."  
  
From what Schuldich had gleaned over time about Weiss, I can picture what member of the team engages in what activity. So he plays sports with children to escape his life of murder? How I wish it were even possible for me to do the same...  
  
"I'm sure you guys do it to, in someway. The boy in your group, he's got to still be in school. Maybe that's how he escapes. Don't the others do anything else then kill?"  
  
Hn. Nagi is still in school. It might be that he does 'escape' in that way, or in all the time he spends with his computer. Farfarello...I doubt he is able to take his mind off of killing, but in his various attempts to hurt God he has seemed to forget about assassinations. Schuldich? A replica of Balinese. He will spend his time away at clubs drinking and having sex with anything that presents itself. They all lead double-lives, most likely for the exact reason Siberian said. So...  
  
"I'm the only one."  
  
He reaches out his hand towards me. To do what? To...place it on my shoulder? He is trying to offer me comfort. I must not be as insane as I previously pictured myself as being.   
  
"You're the only one of Schwarz who doesn't do it, aren't you?"  
  
It isn't even a question. It is a statement, he already knows it to be correct.  
  
"I thought so. If you will trust me on this one, I think I can fix that problem..."  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -   
  
"Siberian. What am I doing here?"   
  
"Relax! I think you'll like this if you give it a chance!"   
  
A chance. That's what I gave Siberian and he used it to bring me here. To this...place.   
  
"See, I think you'll like it here. I talked to the owner and he said you can start working here today if you want! I have 'connections'"  
  
Siberian winks at me as he says that. Dear God what have I gotten into? I have gun back with me...I really should kill myself now. Yet, I don't think I want to. The desire isn't as strong as it was before, something I consider amazing for the situation I'm in. I watch the people milling around this place incredously. Siberian wants me to work with these people? They all seem so...happy. Yeech. Why is that woman staring at me? Now she's walking over here, smiling. Perfect...  
  
"Mr. Crawford? Are you ready?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
Thank you, Siberian. Apparently my glare isn't affecting him at all. With Abyssian doing the same to him, I suposse he's become immune to it. Now that grinning female is leading me somewhere. To a small barren room. It reminds me of the detention room from all those years ago. I do not want to be in here. I should leave now, run away like the coward I truely am.   
  
She thrusts a peice of paper at me and shuts the door. People who are rude to me don't live long, and hopefully she'll realize that soon. Siberian's smirking at me through the window by the door. He's doing this all to humiliate me, isn't he? I can see it now. He gets orders to go on a mission to make my life worse then it already is.   
  
"Mr. Crawford? You're on!"  
  
I hate that woman's voice. Siberian sticks his thumbs up and smiles widely at me. I pick up the paper, trying to focus on the more immediate problem. I can not believe that I am here doing this. It is too incomprihensible. Orders are orders I suposse, even if they ultimatly come from Siberian. As they say, 'Here goes nothing'  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -   
  
"That wasn't so bad, was it?"  
  
I look over at Siberian who is staring atentively at the video cassete in his hands while walking next to me. Was it that bad? No. In all honesty, after the first few minutes it was...enjoyable. I had the closest thing to 'fun' doing that as I have had in years. I made an appointment to do that again in a week, on Siberian's recomendation. He enjoyed it too, apparently. He found everything I had been saying in that room to be very amusing. He said he would come back with me for my appointment, to be a spectator. Was it bad?  
  
"No...It wasn't."  
  
Siberian laughs triumphently at that. He stops suddenly in the middle of the sidewalk we are currently on. I look at him while he, on the other hand, has decided the ground is most interesting. I look around, pondering breifly why we are just standing here. We are at the sidewalk that we first saw eachother on this morning, hours ago.   
  
"I have to go back to work now. The guys are probably wondering where I've been all morning. Here, here's your tape back. See you Tuesday?"  
  
He hands me the video tape, raising his head up to smile at me. I take the cassete and look him in the eyes. He seems guinuinely happy.   
  
"Tuesday." I confirm.  
  
He goes serching for the apron he hid behind a nearby dumpster before we left. I turn to walk home when his shout stops me.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
I look over my shoulder at him grinning at me.  
  
"I know your name is Bradley Crawford now, Oracle. My name's Ken Hidaka, I case you didn't know. You probably did, I mean Schuldich probably told you that already, but maybe he didn't and...yeah."   
  
His words trail off and he shrugs helplessly at me, as if he is trying to convey his lack of eloquence. He ties his apron in the back.  
  
"We'll have to fight eachother someday, but until then, can we be friends?"  
  
Would it be wise to forge a friendship with him, the enemy? Looking at him now...He's not my enemy, Siberian. He is Ken, a boy who works at a flower shop. Double lives in full-force.  
  
"I'd like that...Ken."  
  
He smiles at me and I feel myself smiling back. As I head back to the Schwarz house, I maintain my smile. I am ginuinely happy. Before I walk in the door, however, I loose all traces of my expression. I do not wish my teammates to think that anything is different then it has always been. I take a deep breath as I stand by the door and I exhale, becoming Oracle again, in facade at least.  
  
"Crawford!"  
  
Schuldich. Damn. I didn't want anyone to see me before I shut myself back into my office. Maybe glaring at him will give him a hint to leave me alone...  
  
"Ooh, dark looks. I'm so scared. Look, Nagi's been worrying his head off while you've been out. Where did you go at 5 anyway?"  
  
"It is none of your business, Schuldich. Tell Nagi everything is fine."  
  
Cold, Brad. Judgeing by the look he's giving me now, Schuldich finds me to be the same bastard I've always been. Good. Things are easier when people don't question.  
  
"If you say so. You know we'll find out what you did, even if you don't tell us. But if you want to do this the hard way, that's fine with me, Brad."  
  
I sigh and start for my office again. I probably should tell them, it would be better for all concerned to not wait for them to deduce it from their own methods. I don't want them to suspect the truth about where I was today. They will find out eventually and the later that happenes the better.  
  
"Uh...Crawford? Are you okay? You didn't kill me for saying your first name."  
  
"I'll look into doing that later."  
  
"Ah...right..."  
  
Schuldich scratches his head and walks away. Sigh. I have to admit that I enjoy tormenting my teammates just a bit. Hm. Teammates. I suposse that I have 'lightened up' slightly from how I used to act so would I now fit into the non-existant family I've always imagined? I have a better chance now then I ever did before. I feel more human, more alive now. All thanks to my enemy. No, he wasn't Siberian today and I wasn't Oracle. We were just an innocent soccer star named Ken and a newly empoloyed jerk named Bradley.   
  
I lock myself inside my office for the rest of the day, repeatedly watching the video tape. I hear Nagi, Schuldich and at some times Farfarello whispering by my door. They no doubt wonder what happened to me today when I left home and are speculating on just that.   
  
What happened today? I lived. I was a person, something I thought I could never be. I was more than nothing. I smile to myself and push the 'Play' button the the VCR again. I'll watch this tape until it wears through. Today, I will drown in the feelings of being semi-normal for the first time.   
  
The introduction is about to begin, showing the work I did today. Hm. Full suit and everything. I grin uncharacteristicaly. I could get used to this.  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -   
  
"Today on "Happy Fun Time", we have a special treat! Mr. Buisness Bunny is here to say hello to everyone!"  
  
The cartoon girl smiles and guestures as a pink rabbit hops up to her. The rabbit is wearing a tuxedo and carrying a breifcase.  
  
"Hello. I am Mr. Buisness Bunny."  
  
"Mr. Buisness Bunny, would you like to play hopscotch with me?"  
  
"I'd love to."  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -   
  
  
K3's Notes:  
Okay, that was stupid I know. I just wanted to write it out so the idea would stop bugging the Hell out of me. So what does everyone think of Crawford doing the voice of a pink bunny for a cartoon show? :]  
Twisted, ne?   
I plan on writing another Weiss Kreuz fic soon, hopefully not as mindnumbingly stupid as this one. Should I even try it? I'll end up mutilating everyone's favorite assassins, but who knows? It might be worth the read. :] 


End file.
